


A Thousand Miles From Nowhere

by madrefiero



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton's Farm, Clint has freckles and they adorable, Coping, Freckles, Iowa, Lucky is the bestest doggo, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sam knows what he's doing, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-11 14:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20547908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrefiero/pseuds/madrefiero
Summary: Bucky tried to throw himself into helping Sam. He tried to go back to Sergeant Barnes, watching Cap's back, but his heart wasn't in it no matter how much he wanted to be. Sam figured that out almost immediately, and took to dragging him along to the VA for support meetings. Bucky hadn't realized exactly how little he was coping until Sam put a plane ticket in his hand."Iowa? What the fuck's in Iowa?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written quickly and not beta read. Posted with less them 30 minutes left on MandatoryFunDay's deadline because that's just how I roll. Special "corny" shootout to the Bad Decisions Buddies. Y'all are my people.

In the month since the blip, since he came back from nothing, Bucky had simply existed and nothing more. He'd gone from The Asset, to not knowing who he was, to a cryo chamber in Wakanda. When he emerged he was himself again, or close to it. Even if he wasn't quite Bucky, he was James Buchanan Barnes and he remembered everything. He hadn't had time to cope with everything that came with that before Thanos showed up and everything went tits up. 

He was gone and back again in what felt like the blink of an eye, and right back in the fight. When the battle was won, he thought he would get some peace. When he hoped he might get some goddamn closure, he found out Natalia was gone. They were different people than they'd been back in the Red Room, but he'd hoped to tell her what she meant to him all those years ago. She helped him feel more human than asset and he was sure that helped him cling to what little of himself he had left back then. 

Then there was Steve's little disappearing act to deal with. Steve his best friend. His brother. His other half. They'd fought like hell to get each other back and he just…left. He left like what they had was nothing and went back to live a life neither of them were meant to have. And yeah, Bucky knew what it was like to wonder "what if things were different," but those weren't the cards were dealt. So Steve decided to take the whole fucking deck and leave him here, and it hurt.

Bucky tried to throw himself into helping Sam. He tried to go back to Sergeant Barnes, watching Cap's back, but his heart wasn't in it no matter how much he wanted to be. Sam figured that out almost immediately, and took to dragging him along to the VA for support meetings. Bucky hadn't realized exactly how little he was coping until Sam put a plane ticket in his hand. 

"Iowa? What the fuck's in Iowa?" he asked, shoulders tensed. He'd had more than enough change for one lifetime.

"Corn. Lots and lots of corn."

"You're a goddamned smartass, Wilson."

Sam gave him a knowing look, not one of judgement or pity, but with all the authority of Captain America. "A friend. Someone who knows better than me what you're going through, and could use a friend with a little shared life experience. Clint Barton." 

"Hawkeye?" 

"Not anymore. Clint's retired."

Bucky knew of him, but had only briefly met him at Tony's funeral. He knew he was Natalia's long term partner and more than competent in the field, but not much more than that. He trusted Sam though, and agreed to go. 

That was two days ago. 

On the plane, Bucky hunched his shoulders down trying to make himself smaller and less noticeable. He picked at the sleeve covering his metal arm, fidgeting just slightly in the seat while he tried to focus on the meditation playlist Sam sent him. The flight was uneventful, save for a crying baby and an older woman who tried to strike up a conversation. Old Bucky would have made easy small talk, but that wasn't who he was now. Instead he pretended not to speak English and replied only in Russian. 

Once the plane touched down he relaxed some, rolling the tension out of his neck and shoulders. He walked off the plane and into what had to be the smallest airport he'd ever seen. Cedar Rapids, the pilot said. Bucky had never even heard of Cedar Rapids before. He threw his rucksack over his shoulder and followed his fellow passengers out of the terminal towards baggage claim. As the luggage carousel came into sight, so did Clint. He was taller than Bucky thought, all broad shoulders and narrow hips, with a physique not even his ridiculous plaid shirt could hide. Bucky caught himself staring just a little too long, but if Clint noticed he didn't let on. 

"We're parked over there." Clint pointed to an older model Jeep, the kind that looked like it had wood paneling.

"We?" Bucky tensed up again. He didn't think he couldn't handle much more conversation today. 

"Yeah, me and Lucky. He didn't want to miss out on meeting you here." 

Clint gave him a lopsided grin, and it was only then that Bucky noticed the smattering of freckles across his nose. He looked warm. Warm and soft like a favorite blanket or well-worn sweatshirt. He was drawn from his thoughts as Clint unlocked the back of the jeep and Bucky was greeted by whiskers tickling his skin a nanosecond before a happy looking dog licked up the side of his face. 

"Lucky, come on buddy, we talked about this. You can't lick someone you just met."

Bucky wasn't paying attention though. He set his bag down and tentatively ruffled Lucky's fur. His hand was quickly joined by Clint's. If he was surprised when Bucky didn't flinch away, he didn't let on to that either. 

"Like this. Right behind his ears."

It was surprisingly easy to let Clint invade his space. He was familiar even though he had no reason to be. Like he was just a little of Natalia and a little of Steve and a lot of sunshine rolled into another person. Bucky scratched behind Lucky's ears and had to tilt his head up to smile at Clint.

"He's a good boy. You're a good boy, Lucky,"

"He's the best boy," Clint agreed and gave Bucky a little nudge with his hip. "Come on, it's an hour and a half back to Waverly, and if we hurry we can pick up a pizza from the EBD before it closes. East Bremer Diner, you'll love it.

He was a thousand miles from nowhere, but in that moment he felt more at home that he had since he came back. Looking up at Clint Barton he thought maybe everything would be okay after all, even him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Clint, I wouldn't ask if I thought it wouldn't be good for you too. You both lost Steve and Natasha. You have a lot in common. Please, Clint."
> 
> Clint just sighed. He couldn't exactly say no to Captain America. It was probably a federal offense, and he had enough of those on his record for one lifetime. And that was how he ended up at the airport waiting on the world's second best sniper come home with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter entails the same things as the first, plus a little after they get to the farm. This chapter is more from Clint's POV.

Clint placed the floor while he listened to Sam, occasionally pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn't in any shape to help anyone anymore. Tasha was his other half, and he'd left her on Vormir. He couldn't save her, so he wasn't saving anyone else. The world was safe for now anyway. He didn't want to be an Avenger, didn't want to do see or talk to anyone, didn't particularly want to live. So when Sam called and asked if the Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers's best pal and Tasha's former flame, Bucky Barnes himself could stay with him for a while, he damn near refused. 

"Clint, I wouldn't ask if I thought it wouldn't be good for you too. You both lost Steve and Natasha. You have a lot in common. Please, Clint."

Clint just sighed. He couldn't exactly say no to Captain America. It was probably a federal offense, and he had enough of those on his record for one lifetime. And that was how he ended up at the airport waiting on the world's second best sniper come home with him. He'd been fully prepared for a surly attitude. He hadn't expected to see grey-blue eyes surrounded by familiar dark circles. He saw someone who looked a lot like himself, withdrawn and depressed, and his heart ached for him.

He put on his friendliest midwestern smile when he greeted him at baggage claim. Some things were just ingrained into Clint, no matter how many places he lived that weren't in Iowa. He'd planned to help with luggage, but all Barnes had with him was the rucksack thrown over his shoulder. This close he could see the stubble that covered his sharp jawline, and the wisdom in his eyes that gave away his true age. While Clint didn't have the wisdom of as many years, the pain behind them was something he could understand. 

"We're parked over there." He pointed to the banged up old jeep he'd bought from Old Man Paustian who owned the farm that bordered his. "Me and Lucky. He didn't want to miss out on meeting you here."

He smiled when he saw the tension leave Bucky's shoulders upon meeting Lucky. The damn dog didn't have any boundaries, and he licked straight up the side of his face. Clint bit back a laugh and half-scolded Lucky, he scooted in closer and showed Barnes just how Lucky liked to be petted. Lucky in turn gave him a dopey grin, clearly in heaven. If Lucky liked him, that was good enough in Clint's book. 

The drive back to Waverly passed with an easy silence between the two, uneventful, and fast enough that they made it in time to pick up pizza from Clint's favorite diner. Miss Rachel even packed up a few leftover barbecue ribs for Lucky. Coming back home was probably the best decision Clint could have made. As he looked across the table at a Bucky Barnes who was a thousand miles from his Brooklyn roots, he thought maybe bringing him home was a pretty good decision too.

Clint didn't push him to talk, just treated him like a real person who'd always belonged. He interacted with him like they'd been friends for years, making sure he knew his door was always open. Over breakfast, Clint told funny stories about his shenanigans with Barney before things had gotten bad. The bad stuff could wait for another time. He put Bucky to work doing chores around the farm, knowing how cathartic the manual labor could be. Working on the farm was good for the soul. You could beat nails into fence posts until you worked all your anger out or were too tired to care.

After the first two weeks, the farm looked better than it had in Clint's entire life. The barn had a fresh coat of red paint and the house had new shingles. Bucky looked better too. The circles under his eyes were still there, but not as prominent as they were before. The two of them had even started to share stories about the not-so good stuff. 

Clint told Bucky about his dad. In turn, Bucky told Clint about his time in the Red Room. Not everything about the Red Room had been bad though. He talked about Tasha, or Natalia as he called her, with a far off look and a voice full of fondness. He'd loved her too back then. Clint was glad to know the two of them had each other all those years ago. They gave each other hope, and sometimes that's all that got you through the shit life dragged you through.

The more they opened up to each other, the lighter everything felt. With long talks and hard labor, they were working through the baggage they never would have unloaded in a shrink's office. The things they'd seen and done, and the people they loved and lost, no one else could really understand them like they understood each other. Clint thought maybe Sam was right all along.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Buck? Are you in love with me?"
> 
> Bucky was still frozen in place, struggling to find words. Clint turned to face him, his face just a little too nervous to be neutral. Bucky's mouth went dry and nothing came out when he tried to speak. He was about five seconds from a full on panic attack. What was he supposed to do? If he told the truth and Clint wasn't interested at all, their friendship might be ruined. If he was interested, well fuck, Bucky was more rusty than a tin roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feelings, fluff, and anxiety. This chapter was based on a tumblr post ablut love and chocolate pudding that I thought was hella cute. I hope you think so too!

"Are you in love with me?" 

The question caught Bucky off guard, and he half-choked on a bite of his sandwich. Was he that transparent? He thought he'd done an okay job at hiding his feelings once he realized he had them. Evidently not. Then again, Clint was more perceptive than people gave him credit for, and making everyone underestimate him was something he excelled at. 

Bucky knew the exact time and place he fell for Clint. It was just shy of six months after Sam sent him to Clint's farm in Iowa. They were making breakfast together and Lucky came barreling in when Clint dropped a piece sausage link on the floor between his feet. When it came to rogue sausages nothing got in Lucky's way, not even his owner. The dog darted between Clint's legs to grab it, which in turn made Clint lose his balance. He flailed on the way down, knocking the whole pan onto the floor with him. Clint's forlorn look at the lost food followed by a defeated "Aw, sausage, no," and Bucky was gone. 

It happened so fast that it hit him like a ton of bricks and he'd fled the room. He spent the next three days finding busy work to do around the farm, making a point to avoid him until he could get his feelings under control. Or at least until he could get a handle on them well enough to hide them. When Bucky reappeared on the fourth morning, Clint acted like he hadn't been MIA for the better part of seventy-two hours. Things were just as easy as they'd been for the last six months or so, and that just made Bucky fall a little more. 

Things changed after that, but so slowly that Bucky didn't notice. Where Clint had always been open to touching, the incidental touches became more frequent. Clint would give Bucky a little bump with his hip while they washed the dishes. Sometimes their fingers brushed when passing over a tool while they worked. Bucky had gone almost seventy years without any sort of gentle touch in his life, and every touch from Clint had him craving another, until he started leaning into him every time. 

And that's what lead them here. They were sitting side by side at the bar in the kitchen, enjoying lunch and homemade lemonade after mending old fences around the property all morning. They were both tired, leaning into one another's space until Bucky's head was on Clint's shoulder while he took lazy bites of the food on his plate. 

"Buck? Are you in love with me?"

Bucky was still frozen in place, struggling to find words. Clint turned to face him, his face just a little too nervous to be neutral. Bucky's mouth went dry and nothing came out when he tried to speak. He was about five seconds from a full on panic attack. What was he supposed to do? If he told the truth and Clint wasn't interested at all, their friendship might be ruined. If he was interested, well fuck, Bucky was more rusty than a tin roof. As if he could sense the panic, Clint smiled that easy, lazy, smile of his. The one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up and Bucky's heart skipped a beat. He slid his unopened chocolate pudding over to Bucky, who must've eaten one every day since he discovered them.

"How about now?"

This time his face wasn't nervous or neutral, the only thing Bucky could see there was hope. What he did was so absurd it brought Bucky right back into the moment with a fit of laughter. And wasn't that just another reason he was so gone for Clint? Once he finally caught his breath, he gave a small nod, slid his hand to the back of Clint's neck, and pulled him in for the kiss he'd been dreaming about for weeks. 

"Yeah, I think I am."


End file.
